With Blood on Her Hands
by rebecca-in-blue
Summary: "Gibbs has half a mind to catch the next plane to Israel and straighten Eli out himself." Ziva talks to Gibbs and Ducky after a phone call from Eli reopens old wounds.
1. Anger Management

Most writers have their own version of Ziva's reunion with Eli (_Despair and Deliverance_, by wingsofenbarr, is one of my favorites) and this is mine. The plot-bunny came to me before Eli's reappearance in "Enemies Foreign," but the fic isn't necessarily AU to that episode. Set shortly after "Good Cop Bad Cop," but not tagged to any episode.

Warning: This fic is a little weird, very angsty, and something of a talkathon. I still can't believe it ended up at five chapters when it started out as a one-shot!

(For my own reference: 13th fanfiction, 9th story for _NCIS_.)

* * *

**Chapter 1**  
**Anger Management**

Gibbs takes the side stairwell out of the Navy Yard when he leaves work that evening. He learned years ago that at this time of day, it's quicker to take the stairs than the elevator, which makes constant stops at every floor of the building and is always hot and crowded with other employees heading home for the day. The stairwell, by comparison, is cool and drafty. Gibbs doesn't encounter another soul, and he's almost reached the ground floor when he hears the noise.

_Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!_

Following the sound, he leaves the stairwell and pushes open the door to the storage locker area. The strange _thwack-thwack noise_, hard and fast, is nearby now, accompanied by labored breathing. Gibbs starts to feel unsettled as he casts around for its source. When he turns the corner onto the next row of storage lockers, he recognizes Ziva's silhouette at the far end. Most of the lights have been switched off for the day, and in the dimness, it takes Gibbs a minute to make out what she's doing.

She's punching the door of one of the lockers. Punching it hard and fast, with all her strength. Punching it as though her life depends on it. The locker door has nearly been knocked off its hinges from her blows, and the thick metal surface is covered with dents and dark red streaks of blood. Ziva's blood.

"Ziva?" he calls as he starts down the hall towards her, but she either doesn't hear him or is ignores him. Either way, her lack of response makes him a little angry. As he gets closer, he can see the bloody gashes on her fists where they connect with the locker. Just looking at it makes Gibbs want to wince. _What's the matter with her? Why's she doing this to herself?_

"Ziva!" he calls louder.

Still nothing, even though he's standing right next to her now. Ziva's arms are moving in a blur, but Gibbs catches hold of her wrists in his hands, restraining her, and shoves himself between her and the locker.

Ziva jerks violently when Gibbs grabs her wrists. "Ziva, what are you doing?" he asks, but she doesn't answer. Doesn't even look at him. It's like he's not there at all. She tries again to punch the locker, but Gibbs keeps a tight grip on her wrists, and for a wild moment they struggle together.

Gibbs has always been one to stay calm in emergencies, but he starts to feel alarmed as he fights to keep a hold on Ziva. He doesn't want to use more force on her. She's nothing but fighting instinct now, not thinking clearly. She might panic, break his arm.

"Ziva, stop it," he says, his voice loud but steady. "Come on, Ziver..."

And just like that, she snaps out of it. Her arms go limp in Gibbs's hands, and her shoulders heave as she tries to catch her breath. She swallows hard and finally tears her eyes away from the battered locker door to look at Gibbs. He's relieved that she's not trying to fight him anymore, but his worry doesn't lessen. There's a defeated look in Ziva's eyes that makes him think of an animal in a cage, trapped and hurt.

"Ziva, what are you doing?" he asks quietly, concerned and a little appalled at her recklessness. Then, since it's obvious what she was doing – punching the locker door – he adds, a bit rougly, "What were you thinking?"

Ziva looks hard at Gibbs, her chest rising and falling with her ragged breaths, and seems to think carefully about how to answer. At last she licks her lips nervously and says slowly, "Gibbs. I am sorry. I was just – I did not mean to – " She pauses and casts around the room, as if hoping to find an explanation there, then finishes lamely, "I was so... angry. I did not know what to do with it."

She watches Gibbs's face closely for his reaction, hoping he won't press her for more details. He's still holding onto her wrists, and she resists the urge to jerk them out of his hands. But she can feel her arms trembling uncontrollably with with rage, and she knows Gibbs must have noticed.

Gibbs has noticed, but he doesn't say anything. He looks down at Ziva's arms, at the bloody, mangled mess on the back of her hands. His face gives away nothing, but he's already planning to send her back to see the shrink again, if _this_ is the only way she can deal with her anger. He's about to ask what could've possibly upset her so much, but before he can form the question, Ziva blurts out, "Eli called me."

Gibbs's head jerks up sharply at her words. Ziva immediately looks away, furious with herself for telling him, but he puts one hand on her chin and turns her head back to him.

"Ziva, what did he say to you?" Gibbs asks, and now his voice is low and dangerous. "Did he threaten you?"

It seems to take all of Ziva's strength just to shake her head. Her anger is suddenly gone, deflated, and her dark eyes are blank and empty, like doors have closed behind them, as they stare back at Gibbs. Then she drops them down to look at her hands, and she feels a vague surprise when she sees how much damage she's done to herself. Ziva knows she should feel pain – at least a little pain – as she takes in all the blood and bruises, but she doesn't. They may as well be someone else's hands. She wiggles her fingers, triggering a fresh flow of blood, and waits for the shockwaves of pain to penetrate her numbness.

Nothing.

Gibbs has half a mind to catch the next plane to Israel and straighten Eli out himself, but then he notices something small and shiny amongst the blood on Ziva's right knuckle. As he raises her hand to his face for a better look, it catches the light and seems to wink at him. It's a fleck of metal from the locker, lying there in her open wound. He glances over the back of her hand and sees more. She could catch her death of blood poisoning if they're not cleaned out properly. He lets go of Ziva's wrists and puts one hand on her back.

"Come on," he says, guiding her down the hall. "Autopsy," he adds shortly, before she can ask where they're going. "I want Ducky to take a look at your hands."

Neither of them says another word as they walk through the hall and down the stairs to the autopsy lab, but Ziva knows their conversation isn't over. Her head is still ringing from the phone call with Eli, from her attack on the locker, but as she walks, she tries to collect her thoughts. She tries to rehearse the words she's going to say when Gibbs starts asking her more questions...

But Ziva doesn't know what she can possibly say to make Gibbs understand, when she still doesn't understand it herself.


	2. Day of Atonement

Many thanks to everyone who left reviews on Chapter 1! I wasn't sure about this fic at first, and it was _so _encouraging to know that people wanted to read more. I think Chapter 2 turned out to be more about Ziva & Ducky than Ziva & Gibbs. All I can say is, God loves Ducky!

* * *

**Chapter 2**  
**Day of Atonement**

Gibbs keeps his hand on Ziva's back for their entire walk to autopsy, even though it's not necessary. She knows the way there as well as he does, after all. But he can't bring himself to remove it. As they walk down the deserted stairs, their footsteps echoing in the stillness, Gibbs can feel Ziva's wild pulse through his hand on her back. Feel how she still hasn't quite caught her breath. As angry as he is with her for doing something so stupid... he's concerned, too. _What the hell did Eli say to her?_

He's relieved when they reach autospy and find Ducky still there. He's standing at one of his exam tables, his back to them, packing up his medical bag. When he hears the doors slide open, he glances over his shoulder.

"Ah, Jethro and Ziva," he says. "And what brings you two down here so late in the d – " Then he notices Ziva's hands. He spins around and quickly crosses the room to her and Gibbs. He carefully takes Ziva's hands in his and brings them close to his face for a better look. Under the bright autopsy lights, Gibbs could swear Ziva's cut her knuckles to the bone.

"Good heavens," Ducky murmurs as he examines Ziva's hands. He raises his eyes to her face and asks gravely, "My dear girl, what happened?"

Ziva cannot bring herself to meet Ducky's gaze. "I was punching one of the storage lockers," she answers flatly. As she hears herself say the words, she realizes how thoughtless it really was. _Punching one of the storage lockers _– she's lucky she didn't shatter every bone in her hand. No wonder Gibbs is mad at her. She can feel his anger through that tense hand still on her back. Why won't he remove it?

She feels trapped between them when Ducky puts his hand under her chin and raises her face to the light. He scrutinizes her, an inner war waging between the doctor and psychologist in him. He's equally concerned for her physical wounds as for the distraught state of mind that led her to do this to herself. But her injured hands are the more immediate concern, so the doctor wins. "Well, sit down and let me look at them," he says, gesturing to his exam table. But Ziva doesn't move until Gibbs gives her a push.

Five minutes later, she's sitting on the edge of the exam table, her hands held stiffly out in front of her as Ducky wipes away the blood. Ziva winces as he brushes over her pulsing, shredded skin, but the pain feels strangely good. It's a distraction from thinking about what Eli said. But just as Ziva relaxes, Gibbs starts asking questions again.

"You said Eli called you," he says softly. He stands close to Ziva, leaning against the exam table. Ducky's eyes shift between the two of them, understanding now what made her so upset. "What'd he say?"

Ziva's mind races, but with Gibbs and Ducky both waiting for her answer, she can't find a way to avoid it any longer. And she knows after what she just did, Gibbs is considering sending her to the shrink again. Ziva swallows hard, and Ducky gently squeezes her wrist with his free hand, steadying her.

"It started out... well enough," she begins hesitantly. "He said he was calling to apologize."

Ziva is quiet for a moment, letting this sink in. Gibbs and Ducky raise their eyebrows at each other, unable to hide their surprise. Then Ducky goes back to work, picking up a pair of tweezers from the medical supplies he's spread out on the table beside Ziva. "Try to keep your hands still, Ziva. I better get those pieces of metal out before they infect you."

Ziva nods and glances at Gibbs, nervously waiting for his response to what she said. She bites her lip as Ducky digs his tweezers into a deep gash on her finger, but she keeps her hands still, and her eyes never leave Gibbs's face.

Gibbs is tempted to blurt out, "He said _what_?" because of all the things he suspected Eli might have said to Ziva, wanting to apologize was nowhere on the list. But instead he asks, "And what did you say?"

When Ziva speaks again, her voice is no longer slow and hesitant but fast and angry, the words spilling out of her mouth. "I told him that I did not believe him. I said that if he had really wanted to apologize to me, he would have called sooner. He would not have waited until today. And I said that for him to call me asking to apologize on_ this _day – "

She stops short, winded, struggling to reign in her anger before she loses it again. The effort causes her hands to twitch, and her knuckles bump hard against Ducky's tweezers. Ziva hisses at the pain, and Ducky quickly presses a bandage over the fresh flow of blood.

"Sorry," Ziva and Ducky say to each other in unison. Ducky smiles a sad smile that doesn't reach his eyes. Ziva looks away, staring hard at one of the morgue drawers, as if there's something there that only she can see. She seems to be talking to herself when she adds softly, "Of all the days he could have called."

Gibbs goes over the date in his mind. It isn't a holiday, it isn't Ziva's birthday, it isn't the anniversary of the day Ari died. It isn't an important day at all, as far as he knows, but it must have some meaning in their family. Could it be Eli's birthday? Or the the day Ziva's sister died? Before he can ask, Ducky saves him.

"You mean because it's Yom Kippur? Could you spread your fingers out a bit, my dear? Just... yes, that's good. It is Yom Kippur, isn't it?"

"Yes." Ziva's voice is barely audible.

Ducky teases a large bit of metal out of one of her cuts and drops it into a dish on the table. It lands with a _ping_ that seems loud in the silence. He explains to Gibbs, "Yom Kippur is the Jewish day of atonement. Asking forgiveness for one's sins. It's traditionally observed by a fast, from sunrise to sunset, that serves as a sort of penance, although many choose to forgo..." Ducky's voice has settled into that rhythm it gets when he could talk for twenty minutes on a subject, but Ziva interrupts him.

"Yom Kippur is the single most important day in Judaism," she says, slow and halting, as if the words cause her physical pain to say. "If someone asks for your forgiveness on that day... you have to forgive them. You _have _to."

Gibbs has trouble controlling his own anger at this. That Eli would call asking for Ziva's forgiveness on this day when forgiveness is required, right after trying to frame her for Cryer's death – even for Eli, it sets a new low in manipulation. _No wonder Ziva was punching that locker,_ he thinks grimly. He feels like punching something himself.

Ziva barrels on, her breath ragged. "I told Eli that I had never... never once seen him observe Yom Kippur. I had never seen him daven, or fast, or go to temple, and I told him if he thought could – " But she chokes on her words and falls silent. Ducky's head stays bent close over her hand, focused on a last stubborn fleck of metal, but he presses his free hand on Ziva's knee. Her anger flares.

_Why is he restraining me? I have kept still this entire t – _Then it hits her. He's not restraining her, but trying to comfort her. And she wonders what it says about her, and her past, that she didn't realize this right away. _Nothing good._

Gibbs allows her only a second of silence before he presses, "He say anything else?" He knows Ducky would say to give her more time, but he also knows if he doesn't ask her now, while her guard's down, she'll never finish it. There's more – he can tell Ziva's still holding something back – and if he waits, she'll never talk about it, no matter how much she might need to.

When she doesn't answer him right away, he digs in his heels. "Ziva, what else did he say?"

Ziva finally raises her head and looks him in the eye. She takes Gibbs by surprise again with her answer. "He talked about you."


	3. Last Worst Part

This chapter has been in the back of my mind ever since I first saw the episode "Good Cop, Bad Cop."

* * *

**Chapter 3**  
**Last Worst Part**

"He talked about you." Ziva's surprised by how steady her voice sounds, because inside, she's starting to feel as torn-apart as her hands. The thought of telling Gibbs what Eli said about him is like a knife inside her, even though what Eli said wasn't true. _Not true, not true, _she repeats herself. _Nothing but lies._

As if sensing her distress, Gibbs asks quietly, even casually, "Guess he didn't say anything good about me?" The knife edge inside her softens at that, and she actually manages a ghost of a smile. Gibbs smiles back at her and starts to go on. "Ziver..."

But his use of _Ziver _makes her look down, her jaw clenching so hard that she knows it'll be sore tomorrow. As angry as it made her that Eli would try to extract her forgiveness on Yom Kippur – the highest holy day, the day that even the most secular Jews feel in their bones – it's nothing compared to what he said about Gibbs. She didn't deserve to hear it. Gibbs doesn't deserve to hear it.

But before she get her guard up again, Gibbs takes her chin in one hand and raises her head, making her flinch in surprise. He's moved from beside her to right in front of her, and she wonders how he did this without her noticing. "Hey, he can't hurt you unless you let him," Gibbs tells her, and Ziva doesn't know how to take this. Is it really that simple? "I told him you were off-limits."

Ducky lays his tweezers down on the exam table just then, and the metallic click is like a signal. _Now,_ it says to Ziva, and she obeys, finding the words.

"He said you would say that." _There._ The last worst part of the conversation with her father. Gibbs cocks his head to one side, as if he didn't quite hear her, and she explains, "That is what Eli said about you. He said you would say that, if I told you he had called me."

Gibbs's eyes narrow, but before he can answer, Ducky reaches between them and brushes his hand away from Ziva. "Excuse me, Jethro," and Gibbs takes a step back. Ziva feels grateful, because she knows Ducky must be as curious as Gibbs, but he still puts her injuries first. He carefully probes her hands with his fingers, feeling for broken bones.

Ziva glances at her hands and almost starts with alarm. Now that Ducky has cleaned them up, she sees how bad they really are. Some of her knuckles are swollen up to twice their normal size, while others are smashed down flat, as though by a hammer. Her fingers and the backs of her hands are shredded with cuts and covered with bruises in all colors.

She has to look away.

"All right, Ziva," Ducky says, as he picks up a packaged swab from the exam table and rips it open, filling the air with the strong, cloying scent of alcohol. "I'm just going to disinfect these before I put the bandages on." Ziva nods, and Ducky squeezes her right wrist, holding the alcoholic swab just above her mangled skin. "This is going to sting, I'm afraid," and he begins neatly cleaning her cuts.

Even though Ziva braces herself for the burn, it's so sudden and intense that she has to grind her teeth together to keep quiet. She doesn't mean to, but she can't help trying to jerk her hand away. But Ducky has quicker reflexes than she gives him credit for, and he just tightens his grip around her wrist, holding her fast.

Ducky works slowly and thoroughly, and Ziva sighs with relief when he finally murmurs, "There," and lays her hand down on her thigh. But before the burning can subside, he opens a fresh swab, takes hold of her left wrist, and starts on that hand. This time it feels like her skin is on fire, and the searing pain effect her mind, because before she knows it, she's talking again, the whole horrible conversation spilling out.

"Eli said that when you said I was off-limits, he could tell you said that in front of me." Ziva tries to look Gibbs in the eye as she talks, but it's too hard, so she lowers her head, staring at an empty spot on the exam table.

"He said that you only said it to make me think you cared. He said that you didn't really mean it and that you only wanted me on your team for my skills." She can't believe she's really telling him this... but she has to finish it now.

"He said that you did not really care about me, and that I was no better off here than I had been in Mossad." _He did not expect me to come back to Mossad, _adds a bitter voice in her head. _Not after all that has happened. He just wanted to say that. To his daughter. On Yom Kippur. _But Ziva shuts the voice down before it can get any worse. The last thing she needs is to start feeling sorry for herself.

The silence lasts for only a few seconds, but it feel like hours to Ziva before Gibbs touches her cheek and asks quietly, "You don't believe that, do you?"

Suddenly, Ziva understands. _He can't hurt you unless you let him. _It doesn't matter what Eli might have said. All that matters is whether she lets herself believe it. "No," she answers, giving her head a slight shake against Gibbs's hand.

"You know that's not true," he insists.

"I know," she nods. Tears sting at her eyes, and she doesn't care if he sees.

Looking down at her hands, Ziva is surprised again. While she's been talking to Gibbs, Ducky has bandaged up her hands and coated her wounds in a salve to drive away the pain. All the bruises and cuts that made her look away before are gone from sight now. All the pain she felt before is gone. Ducky smiles at the look of wonder on her face.

Gibbs studies her hard. "You okay?"

The words have barely left his mouth before Ziva nods curtly and gives her go-to answer, "I am fine."

Gibbs purses his lips in frustration. He doesn't believe her, but he doesn't press her, either. Without missing a beat, he turns to Ducky. "Duck, she okay?"

Ducky studies Ziva for a moment, then reaches into his medical bag and pulls out a stethoscope. As he slips the buds into his ears, he asks, "Ziva, is it all right if I listen to you?" Ziva gives another curt nod and sits up straighter, expecting him to lay his stethoscope against her shirt, but instead, Ducky slides his hand beneath the hem of her shirt, up her stomach, and gently presses the cold metal of his stethoscope against her breast.

Ziva's entire body stiffens.

_It's Ducky, it's just Ducky, _she reminds herself before she can panic. She tells her rigid muscles to relax, but they refuse to obey, and Ziva feels her face grow hot with shame for reacting this way. Ducky has to have noticed, and now he'll know just how damaged she really is. Suddenly, it all comes back to her – that suffocatingly hot cell, and the rough, calloused hands beneath her clothes, touching her, hurting her...

Then Ducky puts his free hand on Ziva's shoulder and lightly rubs his thumb back and forth. His touch feels so comforting that the memories retreat, and her body grows steady again. Ziva glances at Ducky, but he remains all business, his head bent as he listens to her pulse, and she's grateful for his professional manner. He pretends not to notice, but when he slowly moves his stethoscope from her breast to her back to listen to her breathing, Ziva knows he's trying not to startle her again.

Ducky's face and voice are grave when he finally removes his hand from under Ziva's shirt and pulls his stethoscope from his ears. "Jethro, would you give us a moment alone?"

Gibbs nods, kisses Ziva's cheek, and without a word, turns and leaves autopsy. Ziva's eyes follow him until the doors slide shut behind him, sealing him from her view. Ducky wouldn't have asked Gibbs to leave unless he wanted to examine her more intimately. She takes a slow, deep breath to calm her nerves and tries to ignore the knots forming in her stomach.


	4. Making a Deal

Episode 8x13 "Freedom" premiered while I was writing this chapter, and I thought Gibbs and Ducky's exchange about not wanting to reopen Ziva's wounds was very in-step with this fic. Sweet! As of now, I don't have any plans to write a tag to that scene, but I might incorporate it later. (You never know how much you'll be inspired to write. After all, this fic started out as a one-shot!) Enjoy Chapter 4 - it's the longest one! :)

* * *

**Chapter 4  
****Making a Deal**

Ducky glances over his shoulder when he hears the autopsy doors slide close, and once he's sure that Gibbs is gone, he turns back to Ziva. When he sees how tense she is, he smiles and puts one hand on her knee.

"My dear girl, calm down," he says. He turns and leans back against the edge the exam table next to Ziva, as Gibbs had done. "I asked Jethro to leave because I thought you and I might make a deal." She looks at him, curious. "You see, I think Jethro wants you to have another visit with the psychiatrist."

She nods nervously. "Yes. I know he is angry with me for..." She hesitates, uncertain of how to describe her actions. For trying to smash her hands to smithereens?

"Ziva, he's _concerned_," Ducky corrects her. "He doesn't want to see you hurt again, and neither do I. You told us everything your father said to you. Now tell me this – do you feel better now that you've talked about it?"

She nods again, slowly. Even though she had resolved not to discuss Eli's phone call with anyone, she realizes that does feel better, lighter, now she's gotten it out. It's like a weight's been lifted from her shoulders. No matter what lies Eli told, her real family still has her back.

"Good," Ducky says firmly. "Then our deal is this. I'll tell Jethro that you don't need to see the psychiatrist again, and in return, next time you get this upset, you find someone to talk to, understand? It can be me, or Jethro, or someone on the team – I don't care who it is, but you talk to _someone_."

Another nod from Ziva – relieved at escaping another psych eval, touched by how concerned he is. "I will, Ducky," she answers immediately, and she's not just saying that. She means it. "I promise."

"I don't want you hurting yourself like this again, Ziva," he insists, resting one hand lightly over the bandage on the back of hers.

"I won't."

Ducky looks at her closely and nods. Ziva assumes he's done and starts to hop down from the exam table, but Ducky quickly raises one hand.

"Just a minute, our deal isn't done yet. I'll also tell Jethro that you're clear for field work, but you'll have to be careful over the next few days. I don't want you putting any strain on your hands – no digging through unsanitary evidence, and no fighting. If it comes to blows with a suspect, you let Jethro and Anthony handle it, or if you must, you can take him out by kicking him. I want you back here at this time tomorrow, so I can change out your bandages, and I'll be able to tell if you've been doing anything you shouldn't."

Ziva nods at each order, a tiny smile on her face. As touched as she is by Ducky's concern for her, she feels more confident now that he's talking to her like an agent, not someone in need of concern. She assumes he's done again and once more, she starts to hop done from the exam table. It feels like she's been sitting there for hours.

She's unprepared when Ducky adds in a low voice, "And Ziva... as long it's Yom Kippur and we're supposed to atone for our sins... I'm sorry I startled you earlier. When I was checking your pulse."

Ziva's breath catches in her throat, and she drops her head, embarrassed. She had hoped he wouldn't bring this up – when he put his hand under her shirt, and she almost panicked. "You did notice," she says, trying to sound calm, but she can't keep a slight tremble out of her voice. "Ducky... I am s – "

But Ducky quickly puts his hand on her shoulder, cutting her off. "Ziva, don't apologize. Not for that." Ziva could swear there's a slight tremble in his voice too. "Your reaction was understandable. I should've warned you before I did it."

Ziva knows he's trying to comfort her, but his words have the opposite effect. Her eyes shift around nervously, still avoiding Ducky. An understandable reaction? She knows Ducky's intuitive, but just how much has he figured out? How much does he know about what happened to her? She swallows and asks, "You will not... tell Gibbs?"

There's no mistaking the tremble in Ducky's voice now. "My dear girl, you have nothing to be ashamed of... but no, I won't tell Jethro. Of course not." Ziva sighs with relief. "I'm going to give you some painkillers so your hands won't hurt too much." He hesitates, then, "Why don't I give you some sleeping pills too? Just in case you need them."

Ziva barely manages yet another nod, not trusting herself to answer him, or even meet his gaze. Ducky's words have caused too many conflicting emotions in her. Relieved that he won't tell Gibbs. Embarrassed that he's giving her sleeping pills, because it means he really does know too much. Wanting to get up and leave – to end this conversation at any costs – when he says that she has nothing to be ashamed of.

Ducky rubs her shoulder with his thumb, like he did when he took her pulse. "You're going to be all right, Ziva. You just need to give yourself some time." She doesn't resist as he pulls her into a hug and whispers, "You remember what I said about talking to someone, all right?"

She nods again and gets out, "I will, Ducky. Thank you."

He smiles over her shoulder. "Anytime."

**{-}**

Ziva isn't surprised to find Gibbs waiting for her when she leaves autopsy. She knew he wouldn't let her off the hook that easily. The hallway is dark now – she didn't realize how late it had gotten – and one of the only lights is the red glow of the exit sign above the door. Gibbs is right outside the doors, and as soon as they slide shut behind Ziva and the two of them are alone, he looks at her and asks, "What'd Ducky say?"

The most uncomfortable answers – the last things she would ever say, especially to Gibbs – spring to her mind. _He said that you were concerned for me. That he was sorry for startling me. That I had nothing to be ashamed of._

But she goes for the practical answer instead and says calmly, "He said that I was clear for field work. As long as I was careful with my hands."

The glowing letters of the exit sign cast a red tint over them, but Ziva can see Gibbs's eyes as blue as ever. The practical answer is clearly not what he wanted to hear.

"You need to see the shrink again, Ziva?"

She takes it as a good sign that Gibbs at least asked her, rather than sending her to the shrink straight away. He understands how much she hates visits with the shrink. Neither of them are the type to talk about their problems. "I do not think that is necessary," Ziva answers carefully.

Gibbs glares at her, his voice angry. "Don't act like nothing happened." He moves closer to her, takes hold one of her hands, and surveys the bandage on the back of it. "You busted yourself up bad, Ziver," he adds, and she doesn't bother denying. His eyes move from Ziva's hand to her face. "I don't want this happening again."

Ziva nods, forcing herself not to look away from Gibbs's gaze, and takes a deep breath. "I had been waiting on needles and pins to see if Eli would try to contact me, and when he finally did – " She pauses and squeezes her free hand into a tight fist, feeling the dull ache across her knuckles. She focuses on the pain; if she focuses on what she's saying, she'll clam up for sure. " – I lost it. But... the worst is over now." She pauses again. _The worst is over._ Even Eli would be hard-pressed to find something more hurtful than what he said today, or find a worse day to say it than Yom Kippur.

"It did help to talk to you and Ducky, and he has already made me promise I will talk to someone next time I get upset." She hadn't intended to tell Gibbs this, because as much as talking might have helped, it's hardly natural to her yet. But she knows Ducky will tell him later. "It will not happen again, Gibbs," she tacks on for good measure.

Gibbs says nothing, but looks back down at Ziva's hand and taps his thumb against her wrist. Ziva suddenly realizes that since Gibbs grabbed her wrists when he found her punching the storage locker and put his hand on her back, then Ducky treated her injuries and squeezed her wrists and knee and shoulder – one of them has had his hand on her through this whole ordeal. She barely even noticed how much they were touching her, much less felt uncomfortable with it, and she wonders at herself.

"Listen, Ziver," Gibbs starts, but then he pauses and sighs, thinking, trying to find the best way to get through to her. "There aren't many groups I give money to, but I make regular donations to the Homeless Vets Coalition." Ziva looks confused, wondering where he's going with this. "It's a good group, but some of the vets they try to reach out to don't want help. They feel ashamed of their situation."

Ziva suddenly hears Ducky's voice in her head. _My dear girl, you have nothing to be ashamed of._ Her jaw clenches, and she turns away. Gibbs puts a hand on her cheek, but this time, he doesn't turn her head back to him. He waits until she does it herself, and once he has her gaze again, he whispers slowly, "But it's okay for a warrior to ask for help."

He leans in and kisses her then, keeping one hand on her other cheek, and Ziva somehow knows that he does this to keep her still, in case she tries to back away from his kiss, like she has before. He knows that she's not like Abby. She's like him – never sharing her problems, pulling away from signs of affection. That's why he had to get his message to her in this roundabout way, via homeless vets.

"I'm gonna go talk to Ducky," Gibbs says as he leans back. He strokes Ziva's cheek with his thumb before he lets go of her, and his touch feels so fatherly that her eyes start to water again. She's grateful he can't see her face in this dim light. "And don't worry about Eli callin' you again. You go home, get some rest."

"I will," she smiles. "Thank you." Gibbs doesn't answer, but when he smiles back at her, that seems to say it all.


	5. The Message

Sorry that this chapter was so long in coming. I delayed in posting it because I fear it's extremely sappy and rather out-of-character for Gibbs, but I couldn't come up with anything better. Please read my author's note at the end. Thank you!

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**Chapter 5  
****The Message**

Gibbs makes a mess of his basement that night. He doesn't have a boat in progress, but he's been stocking up on supplies for his next one. He grabs the heavy wooden planks leaning against the wall, lays them across his sawhorses one by one, and cuts them down to the right length with his circular saw. But many of his edges come out rough and crooked, and he has to do them over again, which only makes him more frustrated. Gibbs usually saws through wood as straight as an arrow, and he knows his work is going wrong tonight because he's so distracted. He's not sure what he should do next. That's not a feeling he gets often, and he hates it.

He knows what he _wants_ to do next. No question about that. He _wants _to catch the next plane to Tel Aviv, find Eli David, say "I told you she was off-limits," and then beat him to a bloody pulp. The idea is so appealing that Gibbs almost grabs his keys and drives to the airport. But...

Gibbs doesn't grab his keys. He grabs a plank with a splintery edge, lays it across his worktable, and begins sanding off the splinters. He works hard and fast, and he can almost understand why Ziva was punching that locker. He knows how it feels to need to take your anger out on something. Gibbs has no problem going after people who deserve it, and Eli certainly deserves it. But...

Eli David is the director of Mossad, not a Mexican drug dealer. There will be a whole different set of consequences to going after him. Still, the drive to get revenge is almost the same as what he felt when he hunted down Hernandez. Or when he shot Saleem. Or when he nearly beat the life out of Abby's stalker boyfriend. The three of them each made the same mistake. They messed with one of his daughters.

The light in his basement is dim, and the air is thick with sawdust. Gibbs rubs his face, brushing the sawdust out of his mouth and nose and eyes. But it's the thought that chokes him, that makes his breath catch in his throat. _One of his daughters._ Where did that come from?

But Gibbs knows where it came from, just as he knows that it's true. It's finally found its way to his head, telling his brain what his heart has known for so long - _you love Ziver and Abs like they're your own._ Gibbs knows too why he avoided admitting it to himself for so long, why just thinking about it rubs his skin raw. It's a risk he isn't ready to take. If he loves Ziva and Abby as much as he loved Kelly, then it would hurt just as much if he ever lost them too. And he can't go through that again. He'd just as soon put his Sig to his head and pull the trigger. That's what he would've done when Shannon and Kelly died, if he hadn't met Mike Franks.

Gibbs doesn't feel any better when he finally comes up with a solution on what to do to Eli David. He sands the plank on his table down to nothing as he tries to think of a better one, and he grips the sander so hard his hand hurts. But telling Eli that Ziva was off-limits obviously didn't work, and as much as he doesn't want to do it, Gibbs can't think of any other way to get across to Eli that he _wasn't_ just saying it, that he _meant_ it, that there's hell to pay for hurting his daughters.

Gibbs doesn't bother cleaning up the mess in his basement. He just flicks off the lights and heads upstairs. _Fine, I'll do it... but this'll be Eli's last warning,_ he vows. _He ever messes with Ziver again, and I won't make the same mistake I did with Hernandez and Saleem. I won't kill him quickly._

**{-}**

Tony notices the bandages on Ziva's hands at work the next morning. Shortly after they arrive, Ziva is pulling some case records from one of the filing cabinets, and as she walks back across the bullpen, she wonders why Tony is staring so intently at the papers in her hands. Then she realizes. He isn't staring at the papers.

Still, she's surprised when, on her way past his desk, Tony reaches out and catches hold of her wrist, stopping her. Surprised, but strangely calm. She doesn't resist when Tony brings her hand closer for a better look. She doesn't get nervous, even when his brow furrows in concern and he raises his eyes to hers and asks, "Zi, what happened to your hand?"

And even though Ziva spent the better part of an hour preparing for that question last night - thinking up a convincing lie, rehearsing her delivery of it so the guys wouldn't be suspicious - she finds she's not embarrassed to tell them the truth. She is grateful, though, that there's only her, Tony, and McGee in the bullpen to hear it.

"I got very angry last night," she says slowly. Her voice is calm, but not casual. In front of others, she might shake it off, but she doesn't want to pretend to the guys that this was nothing. "I took it out on one of the storage lockers."

McGee says nothing, but Ziva notices the telltale silence, the lack of keyboard clicks from his desk. He's stopped typing, and she knows he's looking over at her and Tony because she can feel the concern radiating from his direction.

Tony runs his thumb across the back of Ziva's hand, just grazing the bandage there. "That had to hurt," he says in a low voice. "Ducky patched you up?" His eyes flick down to her hand, then back up to her face again, and she nods. He relinquishes her wrist then, she returns to her desk, and he goes back to whatever he has up on his monitor. But Ziva can tell from Tony's face that he's still mulling over what she just said. McGee glances back and forth between them, so obviously that she can't believe he thinks they don't notice.

"Hey, Zi," Tony finally says, after a few minutes of silence, "next time, you can consider punching me instead, okay?"

There's a sly smile on his face as he says it, and even though he's making a joke of it, Ziva can hear the concern in his voice. She smiles back at him as she answers smoothly, "You should be careful, Tony. I might just take you up on that."

"Well, that offer's also good for McGee," Tony adds immediately. "You can always consider punching him, too. Right, McGee?"

"Hey!" McGee objects.

**{-}**

The e-mail is waiting in Eli David's inbox the next morning, and it's untraceable. The IP address and everything else about who sent it, when and where, has been erased. It wasn't that difficult to do, Gibbs discovered, after he got McGee to write down step-by-step instructions for him.

He copied the article from the NCIS database, redacting everything that he didn't want Eli to read. In fact, he probably took out more words than he left in. But he hadn't wanted to send the article at all, and it gave him a feeling of control to decide which parts to include. In the end, only the barest facts are there, just enough for Eli to understand the message Gibbs is sending him.

_Pedro Hernandez, armed and dangerous... wanted for the murders of NCIS Special Agent James Wilson and two civilians, Shannon Gibbs and her daughter Kelly... Hernandez was found dead in his pick-up truck... had been shot through the truck windshield's from a distance... remains unsolved._

Gibbs doesn't say a word about it to anybody. McGee had asked him, when he was explaining what to do, why he needed to send an untraceable e-mail, but Gibbs just looked him and the questions stopped. He almost didn't send it - it was against his nature to dig up something so painful, so personal, and then send it to Eli David, of all people - but it was the best way he knew of to get his message across. The best way to say, _Hey, this is what I did to the last man who hurt my family. I didn't get caught. I can do it again._

Eli seems to get the message, at least. Gibbs made Ziva promise that she would tell him if her father ever contacted her again, and she looked him in the eye and said, "I promise, Gibbs," and he knew she meant it. But Eli doesn't bother Ziva again. And the next time Gibbs is in his basement and it occurs to him again that he loves her and Abby like his own, it doesn't scare him anymore. In fact, it makes him smile.

**FIN**

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I sincerely apologize for the long waits between updates in this story. This fic took me longer to write than any other by far. It's also received more reviews and story-alerts than anything else I've written (so far). I never expected it to be so popular. Real life has been difficult lately - which is why it took me so long to write this fic - and reading all your kind reviews was a _huge_ comfort.

I had considered writing another chapter or two of this fic, I decided that Chapter 5 was the best ending. It wasn't an easy decision to make, but I didn't want to drag the story out for too long. There's a small chance I _might_ change my mind and write more, but if I do, it will not happen anytime soon.

So, to all of you who read, reviewed, favorited, or story-alerted this fic, thank you for being a part of this long, wild, crazy journey. Although I rarely ever post my fics there, you can also find me on LiveJournal, if you want. My LJ name is the same as my FF name. And always remember, God loves a duck! :)


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